


yes, sir

by cestlestialbeings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Blindfolds, Bondage, Collars, Consensual Sex, Dom/sub, M/M, Not Underage, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:22:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29483643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cestlestialbeings/pseuds/cestlestialbeings
Summary: John rewards Dean for doing well on a hunt, but punishes him for disobedience.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/John Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	yes, sir

The door has just shut behind them when Dad orders Dean, “Clothes off.”

Dean obeys immediately, stripping off his clothes while Dad grabs a towel from the bathroom. Goosebumps rise on Dean’s skin as his bare skin comes into contact with the cool air, but he doesn’t move, just waits for Dad’s next command.

Dad folds the towel up and places it on the floor. “Kneel,” he says, pointing to the folded towel, and Dean does. Even through the towel, the floor is hard as his knees touch the ground and he sits back on his heels, wincing at the pressure against his sore ass that Dad had whipped raw with a belt yesterday after Dean had complained a little too much about their day’s work.

Dad tilts Dean’s chin up so Dean is looking at him. He lightly touches the skin near Dean’s scraped jaw, turning Dean’s face a little so he can see it better in the light. They’d killed the ghoul, but they’d taken a few hits themselves. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asks softly.

“A little,” Dean said, looking up at Dad through his eyelashes.

“Anything bad?”

“No, sir.”

“Good.” Dad says. He drops his hand. “Stay there.”

Dean waits patiently while Dad washes up and takes care of his own injuries first—a cut on his arm that needs stitches, some bruising and scrapes on his side that need to be bandaged.

He finishes and approaches Dean. “Let’s get a look at you,” he says. He circles Dean, trailing his fingers across Dean’s shoulders as he examines Dean’s body for injuries. Dean shivers, feeling exposed, but he trusts Dad to take care of him.

Satisfied with his inspection, Dad runs his fingers through Dean’s hair, lightly grabbing some in his fist to tilt Dean’s head back. Dad grabs a bit of gauze from the med kit on the bed and pours a bit of hydrogen peroxide on it, then dabs it against Dean’s jaw. Dean clenches his jaw and squeezes his eyes shut at the sting while Dad cleans up the scratches.

“Good boy,” Dad says. He does the same to the cut on Dean’s cheek and then applies a butterfly bandage. “Do you want to be collared tonight?”

Dean’s heart flutters. He loves the feeling, knowing that he’s completely Dad’s. “Yes, sir.”

Dad gets the leather collar from the bag and puts it on Dean slowly, keeping his half-lidded eyes fixed on Dean’s the whole time. Blood rushes to Dean’s dick, and he’s half-hard, just looking at Dad.

Dad steps back once the collar is on, the ring in the front facing him. The collar had been Dean’s idea—a surprise gift for his dad on one of their hunts away from Sam. He always wore it when they were alone together, marking Dad’s ownership of him. Dad liked it so much that he bought Dean a “collar” for when they’re around others—a ring, a secret sign of what Dad and Dean share that no one else would think twice about.

“You did good tonight, sweetheart,” Dad says, and Dean’s cheeks redden from the praise. “You deserve a reward.”

“Thank you, sir,” Dean says. He licks his lips and smiles at Dad.

Dad laughs lightly. “Vixen. Behave.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean says, trying to suppress his excited grin and failing.

Dad smiles back for a moment before his features grow serious. “Dean. Tell me your safe word again.”

Dean pauses. He never wanted a safe word, knew he’d never need it, but Dad insisted. “Beaufort,” he says. The town where Dad had fucked him for the first time, slow and sensual, like he was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“You’ll use it if you want me to stop,” Dad says, the same thing he says every time. Dean nods. “Say it back to me.”

“I’ll use it if I want you to stop,” Dean says, the same thing he says every time.

“Good.”

Dad goes to grab something from his bag. Dean fights the urge to look back, to see what Dad’s going to treat him to tonight. Dean will just have to trust him.

“Close your eyes,” Dad says from behind him, and Dean obeys. Dean feels the soft fabric of a blindfold come to rest across his eyes and cheeks, and Dad fastens it into place. “Up.” Dean stands, and Dad guides him to the bed, laying him down. Dean lets Dad take control, take his hand and press a light kiss against the palm and then wrap a soft rope around Dean’s wrist. Dean can’t see where Dad fastens it to, but now his arm is stretched out and tied down to the side of him, leaving him open and exposed. Just the way he likes it. Just the way Dad likes it.

Dad ties down Dean’s other arm, and then his legs. Dean’s breathing is ragged as he’s left vulnerable and open, unable to see, completely at Dad’s mercy. He’s hyperaware of every inch of his exposed body, wondering where he’s going to be touched first.

“Okay?” Dad asks.

“Yes, sir,” Dean says.

“Good.” A callused palm slides along Dean’s jaw and down his neck to his collarbone, and Dean swallows, his dick already hard and aching, wanting more.

“Please, sir,” Dean says.

“Please what?” Dad asks, his voice low, almost a growl.

“Please fuck me.”

The rough hand slides down along Dean’s chest, grazing over a sensitive nipple and making Dean gasp lightly. The hand keeps going, down to his dick, wrapping around it. Dean arches into the grasp, needing more.

“This what you want?”

“Yes,” Dean whispers. “Sir.”

Dad pumps Dean’s dick a couple of times, rubs his thumb over the sensitive head, sending sparks from Dean’s dick throughout the rest of his body. A rush of air leaves Dean’s lungs, leaving him breathless. “More.”

The hand pulls back, leaving Dean cold and aching and wanting more.

“It’s not your place to make demands.” Deep, velvety voice, gentle, but Dean knows it’s promising punishment later.

“Sorry, sir.”

“Hm.” A tongue runs along Dean’s side and up to his nipple, where it swirls around, silky wet against Dean’s pebbled skin. Teeth graze his nipple and Dean inhales sharply, wanting more, wanting Dad everywhere.

The touch disappears and Dean struggles to catch his breath as he feels tingly where his wet skin touches the cool air. Again, a hand starts jerking Dean’s dick. Dean feels warm breath on his lips and he opens his mouth, an invitation. Dad kisses him, claiming him, and Dean can taste blood from a split lip but he likes it because it’s _Dad_ , and he can feel himself getting closer and closer, his breaths coming ragged and uneven.

Dad pulls back slightly but Dean can still feel his warmth, just inches away. “Are you going to come?”

“Yes,” Dean whispers, but his voice barely comes out. He tries again, louder. “Yes.”

“Don’t.” His hand pulls away and Dean lets out a disappointed whimper.

“Please, Dad,” Dean says. “Please.” Dad’s done this before, brought Dean to the edge and then stopped, again and again until Dean was brought to tears. Dean hates it almost as much as he loves it.

Dad’s hands roam Dean’s skin again, everywhere but the one place Dean wants Dad to touch him. Along his arms, his chest. Dean shivers at the contact, and Dad switches to his mouth, warm, wet kisses all along Dean’s body. Dad kisses along Dean’s shoulder and then bites, hard. Dean gasps at the pain, feels it run all the way through his over-stimulated body to his dick, and he comes. He feels the splash of cum on his belly, feels Dad freeze and pull away.

“You didn’t listen,” Dad growls.

Dean swallows. “Sorry, sir,” Dean says.

“What am I going to do with you?” Dad says. “Hm.”

The bed shifts as the weight next to Dean disappears. He hears Dad rifling through something across the room, and then feels Dad sit back down on the bed next to him. A cap clicking, some other noises of adjustment. Then a hand on Dean’s dick again except— _oh_ , something wet that stings a little bit, that made his skin feel icy and tingly, that brought back all the sensation that had spilled out of his dick when he came. Arousal oil—Dad’s used this before, for times when he wants to make Dean feel extra good, or for when he wants to punish him.

The stimulation is already overwhelming, his dick still sensitive from the recent release of pleasure, and then Dad starts jerking Dean off again, slow, his thumb rubbing around the glans. Dean gasps and bites the inside of his cheek. It’s too much, so much it hurts.

“How does that feel?” Dad asks.

“T-too much,” Dean says between shuddering breaths. “S-sir.”

“Good.”

“Please,” Dean says, and he gasps as a spike of pleasure-pain goes through him. “Dad. Dad. Please.” He lets out a light whimper. It’s too much, his whole body is shaking from the continued contact with his over-sensitive cock.

“Please what?” Dad’s voice is calm, too calm for how overwhelmed Dean is feeling.

“Please. Make it stop. It’s too much,” Dean says. He pulls at his restraints, hard. The material is soft, but Dean knows there will be bruises on his wrists in the morning.

“You know your word,” Dad reminds him, but he doesn’t slow down in jerking Dean off.

Dean knows. He knows his word, but he likes that Dad likes this. He likes that he’s completely in Dad’s control. That he’s showing how much he loves his father, how much he trusts him, how far he’s willing to go for him.

Soon Dean’s mind starts to get fuzzy, totally overwhelmed by the pleasure so intense it hurts. He feels himself shaking, he hears himself whimpering again and again, _please, please, please_ , but all he can think about is Dad’s over-stimulating hand on his dick, unrelenting.

He shudders and feels his dick throb, squirting more cum onto the hand on his dick, onto his belly. The hand withdraws and Dean presses his head back into the pillow, taking deep breaths as his dick continues to pulse, even without the continued stimulation.

He feels Dad’s fully-clothed body lie down next to his, and Dad runs his rough fingers through Dean’s hair. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, and Dean wants to but can’t reply, still shaking and breathless. The slow, soothing circles Dad’s thumb is running over Dean’s shoulder calms him down fast, though, alleviates the pleasure-pain, brings him back down to earth.

The blindfold is lifted from Dean’s eyes and he blinks at the sudden brightness. There’s Dad, smiling down at him softly, so blindingly affectionate. He leans down and presses a kiss to Dean’s lips and then pulls away to untie Dean’s bonds. Dean lies there after they’re all off, not moving, just letting his bare body acclimate.

Dad goes and comes back with a washcloth, gently towels up the mess Dean made, cleans up the ties and the blindfold and the oil, brings back a full cup of water and tells Dean to drink the whole thing, and Dean does, because Dad told him to.

Dad sits down and reclines on the bed, and Dean slips on some sweats and a big, loose USMC t-shirt that smells like Dad before he crawls onto the bed and curls up next to Dad.

“Hey,” Dad says soft. He tugs lightly at the ring on Dean’s collar. “You want this off?”

Dean shakes his head.

“Okay.” Dad wraps his arm around Dean.

Dean closes his eyes and nuzzles his face against Dad’s neck, taking a deep breath and feeling calm and spent and safe. His fingers curl into Dad’s shirt as he clings to him, already feeling anxiety rise up in him—when is Dad going to leave again? What if he doesn’t come back from his next hunt? What if—

Dad must sense Dean’s aggravation because he kisses the top of Dean’s head. “Dean.”

“Mm.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “I’ve got you.”

Dean nods, lets the fear fade from his mind as he focuses on here. On Dad.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Dad says softly, his lips against Dean’s forehead. “My beautiful boy.”

Dean falls asleep easy like that, Dad’s arm wrapped around him, his head resting on Dad’s chest. And when he dreams, he doesn’t dream about monsters.

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: not 100% confident about bdsm—never written it before—but did my best to portray it as accurately and respectfully as I could.
> 
> thoughts and concrit welcome <3


End file.
